Darkness
by Alilacia
Summary: Darkness can enter even the lightest of souls. Even the strong elven race can lose hope, but once lost, it takes someone special to bring it back. To bring hope is his nature, not just his namesake. Non slash.


Darkness

By: Alilacia

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: or Spoilers for The Two Towers movie

Disclaimer:

I do not own the Lord of the Rings, or anything to do with the film or books. That honour goes to Peter Jackson (et all) and J.R.R Tolkien. I have no permission what so ever to use these characters, will not receive any money for this, and am doing this for my own enjoyment. And to get away from doing my college assignments

Summary:

Darkness can enter even the lightest of souls.

Even the strong elven race can lose hope, but once lost, it takes someone special to bring it back.

To bring hope is his nature, not just his name-sake.

Mae govannen!

That was just a small piece that would not let me rest until I had written it.

It was really the poem that inspired this story, and I wrote that poem myself one day when I was feeling particularly depressed.

It was only after I had written it, and I looked it over a few days later that I realised that it had some things in it that reminded me of Helm's Deep, and of the argument that Legolas and Aragorn had in the movie.

So I set about translating it into Sindarin, and then wrote a story around it.

My translation skills are not the best in the world. In fact I'm sure that there are people with better skills out there. So if I made any mistakes in this, I apologise.

Here is the poem in its entirety, in english and elvish (Sindarin).

Darkness

What would I do when hope is lost?

When despair lingers like a winters frost

Despair and darkness go hand in hand

Aside from hope when it forsakes the land

Man innas im car ir estel na haim?

Ir bal dartha sui hrîw hesk

Bal a dúath noro cam ned cam

Eg o estel car ha awartha i dôr

Death follows battle, like night does the day

When all hopes are lost in the midst of the fray

Emotions run deep, like anger and pain

Grief takes hold and tears fall like rain.

Gûr aphad auth, sui daw innas i arad

Car pân estel haim ned i enedh uin dagor

Ilf nor nûr, sui rûth a naeg

Niiir mab gar a nîr dant sui ross.

Loved ones are lost, but the battle was won

Red blood was spilled, so many have gone

Days are cold and hearts are hard

Wounds are dealt and souls are marred

Melethmin haim, dan i or-auth

Naru agar lib, lim gar haithin

Arad ring a hûn norn

Haru anna a ind gwaen

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust

Walk the road, and travel we must

Darkness calls, and light will fade

As we walk the path that fate has made.

Lith an lith, ast an ast

Pada i men, a lend min innas garo

Dûath can, a calad innas thinna

Sui min pada i râd tan amarth garo ekhant.

The title of this story comes from the poem written above, and I hope that you like it as well as the story.

This is a one shot, and I do not intend on writing any more chapters after this one. But I suppose if I get any more ideas, I might consider continuing it.

Namárië nin mellons

Alilacia

Darkness

* * *

Aragorn walked slowly down the stone halls of Helm's Deep.

The argument with Legolas was fresh in his mind, and thoughts rushed through his brain. This was the first major argument the human could remember them having. He could not even remember what had started it. Or who had started it.

But they had, and Aragorn needed to find some time to himself. Aragorn didn't trust himself not to lash out at his friend again.

His friend...

Aragorn sighed as his feet led him to the main door, and out into the cool starlit air. People of all shapes and sizes were walking around out here, and even children were drifting among the flames of the sentry fires.

The sight of the people, of the children, reminded Aragorn that somewhere in this mass of stone and rock was Legolas. His friend and his brother.

Legolas had been in his life for many years, and they hade faced many dangers together. It worried the human that Legolas would be the one to lose faith, when it had been Legolas who had restored Aragorn's faith in what they were fighting for many times before.

A weary sigh spilled past his lips, and he looked up into the sky. Although it had been so long since he had last walked these lands, the stars did not change.

They twinkled brightly in the darkened sky, and reminded Aragorn of happier times when he stood on his balcony in Imladris and watched them appear one by one.

Each star served as a different memory. A different challenge that he had had to face. A map of the troubled road that he had had to walk.

A road walked not alone. Until now.

He walked over to the step and sat down. Aragorn pulled his knees up to his chest, and allowed his head to fall onto his legs. His silver eyes rising slowly to find the stars, and once again the ranger sat and looked at that which reminded him most of home.

"Man innas im car ir estel na haim?

Ir bal dartha sui hrîw hesk

Bal a dúath noro cam ned cam

Eg o estel car ha awartha i dôr."

The lilting elvish voice whispered in the air around him, and the faces of the men, women and children around Aragorn looked around in wonder. None knew what the words symbolised, but in the elven tongue, even the most impolite of words could be made to sound musical. Aragorn lowered his head and closed his eyes.

The words were not unknown to him, and the unspoken pain in them was clear.

Aragorn sighed again, and refused to allow himself to rise. Although he dearly wished to go to his friend, and right what wrongs had transpired between them, he would wait. A level head was needed to apologise, and appropriate words were needed.

And right now, Aragorn had neither.

"Gûr aphad auth, sui daw innas i arad

Car pân estel haim ned i enedh uin dagor

Ilf nor nûr, sui rûth a naeg

Niiir mab gar a nîr dant sui ross."

Although wonder still showed on some of the children's faces, all returned to what they had been doing. The elvish words still rang in the air, and Aragorn looked around at the people.

He did not fully understand why Legolas had suddenly lost all hope. For as long as Aragorn could remember, from the very first day that he met the elven prince, Legolas had always been this pillar of support; a place for Aragorn to draw his strength.

It was true that Aragorn held elves in the highest regard, for he had been raised among them, and held a special place for those he called his family in his heart.

And over the years, and over the adventures that they had shared together, Legolas had become like a dear brother to him.

And so it was completely alien to him, that he witnessed this side of Legolas. One that didn't seem so sure that they would see the end of this.

The human was brought out of his thoughts by shouts and commands from the men around and below him, and the apprehensive shuffling to his left. Many men were walking about, and several were carrying large blocks of wood on their shoulders. Grim was their faces as they prepared for what would be an undenyingly long battle. Turning his gaze, Aragorn saw a young boy staying close to one of the fires. A quiver of arrows sat on his back, but Aragorn saw no bow. As the boy continued to glance at the soldiers around them, Aragorn found himself hoping that the child did not have to use them in combat. A sword was in his hand, and the boy looked as though he wished not to be here.

Aragorn almost smiled and recognised the look in the boy's eyes. It was one that had been in his own eyes when he had first been handed a sword by his brothers and told to 'have at it then'.

He watched as the boy looked down at the sword, and then back to his left. Another soldier was standing but a few inches away from the boy, fixing his armour. Several times the soldier glanced past the boy, but offered the child no aid.

When the soldier glanced at the boy again and did nothing, Aragorn had had enough.

"Give me your sword."

To his credit the boy didn't jump, but the question obviously startled him. The boy turned to look at him, his face smudged and his expression cautious. Slowly he moved towards Aragorn, holding his sword gingerly in two hands. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and held the sword forwards, hilt first. As Aragorn took the sword, he glanced at the boy. "What is your name?"

"Háleth, son of Háma, my lord." Háleth replied slowly, and Aragorn felt a wave of sympathy for the boy wash over him. For he had been there when Háma had been lost, and he deeply empathised with Háleth. Because Aragorn knew all too well the pain the loss of a loved one caused. But at least he had been too young to dwell on it too much. Aragorn closed his eyes briefly and turned back to the sword in his hands.

"The men are saying we will not live out the night." the boy softly spoke, but emotion filled words made Aragorn look back at the boy, and fear showed slightly in Háleth's eyes and voice. "They say that it is hopeless." Háleth looked at him, his eyes asking for something, some assurance that they would survive this.

Aragorn didn't know what he could say. If he could not provide it for one of his closest friends, how could he provide it to a distraught boy.

"Melethmin haim, dan i or-auth

Naru agar lib, lim gar haithin

Arad ring a hûn norn

Haru anna a ind gwaen."

Elvish words once again echoed in the wind, and Aragorn made up his mind as he listened to the words. He stood to his feet and held the sword out him front of him. Háleth's eyes were watching him from where he stood, and followed his every move as he swung the sword once in his sure grip. The sword was heavy, but it was made very well.

It cut effortlessly through the air Aragorn discovered as he weaved the blade in arcing paths. Aragorn wielded the blade close enough to his body that it would not accidentally hit Háleth, but far enough away to turn deadly with the slightest twist. The rush of air past the blade sounded in his ears and he raised the sword up to his face. Yes, this sword would serve its owner well.

"This is a good sword." Aragorn muttered loudly, and turned to face Háleth. His face was not filled with so much fear and doubt as he took back the sword that Aragorn held out to him. "Háleth, son of Háma." Aragorn leaned down and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. The extra weight brought Háleth's head around, and he turned to look Aragorn in the eyes. "There is always hope." The words were uttered with so much conviction, that Háleth instantly believed them to be true.

Háleth nodded, and stepped away. Gratitude, and a new found belief in what they were fighting for shone in the boy's face, and Aragorn stepped back up onto the steps.

Aragorn turned his head to the sky again, and then towards the whispered elven words.

"Lith an lith, ast an ast

Pada i men, a lend min innas garo

Dûath can, a calad innas thinna

Sui min pada i râd tan amarth garo ekhant."

Now all he had to do was convince a certain elf that hope had not been lost.

* * *

Aragorn retreated back into the halls of Helm's Deep. On his way in he had caught sight of Gimli once or twice, but that was not who he was looking for. One his third circuit of the lower grounds, Aragorn moved back into the armoury. 

He was loath to enter this place again, not with the unresolved issues between him and Legolas, but there was a battle to prepare for. One that he had every intention of seeing the end of.

He glanced at the chainmail coat that he held in his hands before pulling it roughly over his head. He was not used to wearing such things, but they would serve him better than his ranger garb in the events to come. But that didn't mean he was going to abandon them all together.

Once all the armour was placed onto his body, Aragorn reached for the outer garments of his ranger garb. They easily slid onto his shoulders despite the chainmail, and Aragorn reached for his sheathe. The belt was such as it could be easily buckled around his waist, and deft fingers made light work of a job they had performed for years.

The knots to his ranger garb were next, and he tightened them quickly. In doing this Aragorn could almost forget the fact that soon he would be taking part in one of the biggest battles since the Battle of the Last Alliance, but the shouted commands outside always brought him back.

The belt was tugged into a knot one last time, and Aragorn reached for his sword. His hands met empty air, and the ranger frowned. He started to look around when movement behind him caught his attention, and he turned around.

His sword was held out by a fair, slender hand, and anguished eyes looked back at him. Aragorn took the sword with a slight nod, and looked his friend in the eyes.

Aragorn felt relieved at seeing his friend here, standing in front of him, but also felt guilty. Words spurned by anger, fatigue and worry had pulled them away from each other last time, and he worried it might happen again.

But that worry was unfounded as Legolas looked him square in the eyes, guilt shining in his eyes that Aragorn was pleased to note were only slightly darker than they should have been.

"We have trusted you this far. You have not lead us astray." Legolas spoke in a rush as though he wanted to get everything out before Aragorn could say a word. "Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."

Aragorn almost shook his head at Legolas' words, and struggled for a moment for something to say. Here was the moment Aragorn had been waiting for ever since he stepped outside of the main doors, and heard his friend mutter his sorrow to the stars.

It was time to set things right.

"Ú-moe edhored, Legolas." Aragorn gripped Legolas' left shoulder tightly with his right hand and felt a rush of relief run through him as Legolas returned the gesture and finally smiled. Legolas' eyes lightened as the unspoken vows they made many years ago were spoken in their gazes here and now. They stared into each others eyes, each glad that their bonds of friendship were strong enough to surpass this, and would last forever.

A figure walking in through the door caught their attention, and both turned to see who it was.

A smile tugged at the corner of Legolas' lips as he saw who it was. And what he was holding in his hands.

"If we had time, I'd get this adjusted." Gimli grumbled as he struggled into the chainmail. Legolas' eyebrow quirked upwards as the dwarf let the mail fall to the floor and it gathered around his feet. Legolas turned to Aragorn to hide the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, and saw Aragorn fighting to do the same. It didn't help when Gimli looked at them both, with a look on his face that practically dared them to laugh. "It's a little tight across the chest."

Smiles spread across both of their lips now, and neither made any attempt to hide it. Gimli really did look utterly ridiculous in that chain mail.

Legolas was about to move forward and help his friend when the resonating of a horn outside stopped him in his tracks. They all paused to listen to it, and Legolas' eyes widened as he recognised it for what it was.

"That is no orc horn." Legolas said as he started heading for the door. He felt Aragorn move up behind him, and step in line next to him as they neared the doors. It was at times like this that Legolas treasured the friendship they held more than anything. For he had been a fool to lose hope.

Legolas had found his hope today.

Aragorn inspired hope in all those who sought it, and Legolas would not stand by anyone else.

Not when a battle called, and the foundations of their friendship remained strong and enduring.

**The End.**


End file.
